Chapter 3: Don’t Come Any Closer!

Mu Yufeng had a dream. In it, she was dressed in pristine white lab attire, her feet tucked into a pair of fuzzy cotton slippers. She stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows on the eighteenth floor, the setting sun washing the room in a warm, gentle glow.

“It really is clean in here,” You Ye remarked, holding a cup of coffee and nodding in appreciation as she looked around.

This was Mu Yufeng’s domain. Across the corridor lay a server room spanning several hundred square meters, its temperature and humidity strictly regulated, physically immaculate down to the microscopic level. Inside sat the mainframe of the artificial intelligence she was developing.

It had happened on this very day: she had invited You Ye to see her life’s work. Back then, it was just a cluster of servers connected to a bank of monitors—pure, uncompromising hardware. The so-called AI bore no resemblance whatsoever to a human being.

“What do you think its physical shell should look like?” Mu Yufeng had asked.

She remembered harboring a private sentiment at the time, akin to a mother eagerly waiting for her partner to name their unborn child.

You Ye had lowered her head in thought for a long moment. Then, her gaze dropped to the curly fleece slippers on Mu Yufeng’s feet. Her lips curved into a subtle smirk, and when she looked up, the amusement in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Make it a little sheep,” You Ye said.

“Dame! No way!” Mu Yufeng had protested.

You Ye’s grin had widened. “Perfect. We’ll call it Damie.”

[T/N]: Damie (达咩) is Chinese internet slang derived from the Japanese dame (“no way / stop it”), while miē (咩) is the Chinese sound for a sheep’s bleat (“baa”). You Ye is turning Mu Yufeng’s protest into the sheep AI’s name.

The dream shattered like a reflection in rippling water. Mu Yufeng was slapped awake by a flurry of tiny, stinging smacks. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the enlarged face of the child she had rescued.

Mu Yufeng tried to sit up, only to find her limbs limp and powerless. Her chest burned with a suffocating heaviness. She glanced at the brazier; the coals had burned to ash.

How did I fall asleep?

The wooden shack lacked ventilation. Her original plan had been to let the fire warm the space before putting it out and cracking the door. Instead, she had drifted off the second she sat down!

Burning charcoal indoors was practically suicide.

Lacking the strength to stand, Mu Yufeng dragged herself toward the door, crawling slower than the infant beside her. She signaled the child with a desperate look. Mercifully, the little creature understood this time, shoving the wooden door outward. A gust of wind laden with ice pellets blew inside, stinging Mu Yufeng’s face.

Collapsing onto the floorboards, Mu Yufeng drew in greedy, ragged gasps.

This little thing just saved my life.

The first step in treating carbon monoxide poisoning was removing the patient from the toxic environment and administering fresh air—precisely what she was doing. Mild cases recovered quickly once oxygen supply was restored, while moderate to severe cases required hyperbaric oxygen therapy and measures to prevent cerebral edema, lest permanent brain damage occur. Such medical luxuries were out of the question here; she could only pray she had been awakened in time and that fresh air would suffice.

Her starfish-like sprawl on the floor seemed to intrigue the child. Tilting her head, the infant studied Mu Yufeng for a moment, then attempted to walk over and flop down in the exact same pose.

Taking a single step, she tripped over the oversized hibernation suit and landed flat on her face.

Well… at least she’s energetic…

Though her body was paralyzed with fatigue, Mu Yufeng’s mind began to clear. Watching the child struggle against the fabric, her thoughts turned somber.

There were far too many bizarre anomalies about this creature—too many to ignore.

First, sealed inside an unventilated room with burning charcoal, why hadn’t the child shown the slightest symptom of hypoxia?

Second, what was with her unnatural body temperature? It made sense for her to be cold after braving the blizzard, and remaining chilled without clothes was understandable, but sleeping right beside a brazier wrapped in warm layers and remaining ice-cold was beyond comprehension.

Mu Yufeng vividly recalled the moment she was slapped awake—those tiny palms had felt like slabs of ice against her cheeks, jolting her consciousness instantly.

She scrutinized the child two meters away. Her skin retained that sickly, ashen-gray pallor, her lips a dark, bruised violet. Two blackened veins traced their way up her chin, disappearing beneath the bundle of fabric around her neck.

If she weren’t moving, Mu Yufeng would have sworn she was looking at a corpse.

Mutant… Zombification…

The keywords from the fifth-floor research log flashed through her mind, sending chills prickling across her scalp.

Could the disaster that caused the entire facility to evacuate have been this infant?

Is she even an infant at all?

Rip!

The creature suddenly tore through the tough fabric of the hibernation suit. Scrambling out of the rags, she took two unsteady, upright steps directly toward Mu Yufeng.

Human potential was indeed limitless. A moment ago, Mu Yufeng had been too weak to twitch a finger, yet now she scrambled to her feet in a flash. Snatching the crowbar from the corner, she held it horizontally across her chest in a defensive stance.

This thing was definitely not a human child! What kind of baby grew that fast? When she picked her up, she could barely crawl, and after a single nap, she was walking on two legs!

“S-Stay back…” Mu Yufeng retreated step by step. “Look, I saved your life, and you saved mine. We’re even, right?”

The unidentified creature took another step forward, appearing fascinated by Mu Yufeng’s sudden recovery.

“Don’t come any closer!” Mu Yufeng shrieked, teetering on the edge between fight and flight.

Then, she realized the fatal flaw in her logic. If this creature truly was the monster she suspected, it had never needed her to carry it across the snow in the first place. Her whole “life for a life” argument was utterly baseless.

In reality, the creature had saved her life, meaning Mu Yufeng owed it a life!

So! Did she come to collect?!

With a terrified yelp, Mu Yufeng spun on her heel and bolted into the pitch-black night. She did not dare look back, nor did she know where she was heading. She could only run. Run and keep running.

The howling northern wind whipped ice crystals against her skin like tiny daggers. Frigid air flooded her lungs, threatening to burst them from the inside. She did not dare stop; hurried footsteps were pursuing her through the snow.

Carbon monoxide poisoning was not something one shook off so quickly. Starved of oxygen, her legs felt like lead weights, and a coppery tang filled her mouth.

Her knees buckled. Collapsing into the snow, she rolled frantically to the side just as a dark shape pounced where she had fallen a split second before. Raising the crowbar with both hands, Mu Yufeng swung downward with everything she had left.

An unearthly screech tore through the night. The dark silhouette swayed and clambered back to its feet, its head and torso twisted at a sickening angle.

Under the dim moonlight, Mu Yufeng finally got a clear look at her attacker. The thing was taller than her—definitely not the creature from the cabin. This was a fully grown adult.

When the hell did this thing start stalking me?!

The monster lunged with a guttural roar. Mu Yufeng raised the crowbar to parry. A foul, rotting stench blasted across her face as the creature’s jagged teeth clamped onto the metal bar, producing a horrific, screeching grind.

Its strength was monstrous. Bracing the crowbar with both arms, Mu Yufeng was forced backward inch by inch, its gleaming fangs hovering mere millimeters from her exposed throat.

Bang!

The monster’s skull burst open right before her eyes, splattering viscous, black blood across her face. The crushing weight vanished instantly, and the corpse collapsed like an empty sack.

A scruffy, disheveled fat man lowered a heavy woodchopper, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Duck!” he bellowed.

Mu Yufeng dropped her head instinctively. The blade whistled over her hair, followed by another sickening crunch of cleaving flesh.

“You alright?” the fat man asked.

He hauled Mu Yufeng to her feet. Back-to-back, Mu Yufeng leaning heavily on her crowbar, she realized with mounting horror that barely fifty meters away, five or six shambling silhouettes were lurching toward them through the snow.

“What are these things?!” Mu Yufeng cried, on the verge of a breakdown.

“Fucking zombies!” The fat man surged forward, shouting over his shoulder, “Remember, aim for the head!”

He wielded the woodchopper with terrifying ferocity, each sweeping blow delivering devastating trauma to the infected. By comparison, Mu Yufeng’s crowbar looked like a wand of mercy, completely ineffective in her exhausted hands.

Her limbs felt like jelly, sapped by fatigue and terror. Before entering stasis, she had lived in a civilized society; no one had warned her that the first stop in this brave new world would be a bare-knuckle brawl with mutated corpses.

Two people could not hold off a mob. Mu Yufeng retreated step by step, quickly falling back against the fat man’s side.

The zombie horde had encircled them.

Only now did she notice that half of the fat man’s torso was soaked in blood, a grotesque patchwork of black and red that made him look like a vengeful specter.

“Looks like your brother’s checking out here today,” the fat man panted, offering a grim grin. “At least I’ve got a pretty girl to keep me company. Worth it.”

Mu Yufeng tightened her grip on the crowbar, grinding her teeth.

“Listen, girl. If I get bitten first, bash my head in with that bar. Don’t hesitate. Same goes for you—if you get bitten, I’ll put this blade right through you. Quick and painless, I swear,” he said, staring blankly at the closing circle. “I sure as hell don’t want to turn into one of these freaks.”

“I don’t want to die,” Mu Yufeng whispered.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

“What’d you say?” the fat man barked.

“I don’t want to die!” Mu Yufeng shouted, drawing a deep breath and raising the crowbar high.

The horde picked up speed. Mu Yufeng locked eyes with the nearest ghoul, silently counting the paces.

Three…

Mu Yufeng braced the crowbar. The fat man raised his cleaver.

Two…

She coiled her muscles, engaging her core and limbs, preparing for one final, desperate strike.

One!

Mu Yufeng swung the crowbar as the fat man brought his blade crashing down. The lead zombie crumpled to the snow. Yet the creatures behind it shrieked and bolted right past the two humans, tearing blindly into the darkness.

Mu Yufeng whipped around. The zombies that had been closing in from behind were gone, vanished into the night. Her shoulders slumped in disbelief.

Did they… run away?

“Shit!” The fat man cursed, seizing Mu Yufeng’s shoulder with wide, terrified eyes, his hair practically standing on end. Lowering his voice, he whispered:

“Look at those bastards… don’t they look like they’re running for their lives?”

“They’ve run into a natural predator.”